the 21st-century tutor
by electrikitty
Summary: no amount of googling could have prepared heine wittgenstein for his new job as the royal tutor… with social media storms at every move the royal family makes, as well as enough daily drama to script a webshow, it will be a miracle if heine can actually educate these celebrity princes. get out your laser pointer, because it's time for a lesson! / modern au / irregular updates


**A/N:** Because I clearly, _clearly_ , have nothing better to do with my time. This is exactly what it sounds like: a Modern AU Royal Tutor fanfiction.

This is really more of a creative writing study / personal project for me: a challenge to write a novelisation adaption of a pre-existing work. I know that a lot of people have zero patience for straight-up adapts, I know. But if a straight-up adapt of the original Royal Tutor manga with a fresh translation of the dialogue — not to mention all the pop culture references and anachronistic jokes I could think of — sounds like your kind of thing? Then by all means, go for it.

Sidenote: as the series hinges on these countries functioning as they did two-hundred years ago, the story is set in the present-day but operates under the assumption that the empires that collapsed in WW2 are instead functioning in the same way as they did then. Otherwise we wouldn't have our favourite princes; they would be the sons of a president instead!

I'll cover the first volume to start, and if people like it, I'll continue adapting the series over time (so if anyone's interested in more, let me know). Enjoy!

* * *

 _The royal tutor._

 _A live-in tutor devoted to the schooling of princes. A post granted to only the best of the best, selected from a range of educators handpicked from all over the country._

Red velvet, walls adorned with gold, and a single ray of pale light and dust motes that cut across the marble floors.

A single figure kneeled before four shadows, four silhouettes that were framed against the wall like portraits.

He touched a hand to his chest. ' _Freut mich_ , Your Royal Highnesses. My name is Heine Wittgenstein.'

He looked up. The light caught on his silver glasses, on the cut of his suit, and on his expressive, feline amber eyes.

'Starting today… I shall be your tutor.'

 _Wienner: capital of the kingdom of Granzreich._

The hot sunlight glittered on a sea of rooftops. From above, the city looked like a box of chocolate bars, or like a crate of bars of gold. Elegant spires pierced the sky. Fountains adorned with statues brought touches of blue freshness to clean and polished roads, to streets that were the colour of manilla folders.

Cars passed each other on the streets, filling the roads between the the sandstone buildings. A single limousine with darkly-tinted windows and white-wall tires cruised down the main street to the jewel at the heart of the kingdom.

The limousine swung into the circular driveway that curved around the palace like the setting of an expensive ring, and the vehicle drew to a halt. The chauffeur stepped out and opened the passenger door with a gloved hand.

Polished black boots touched against the running board. And a slender figure disembarked with suitcase in hand, the wind ruffling his ginger hair and catching at his charcoal-grey suit.

Heine Wittgenstein set the suitcase down, and stood, a single figure on the expanse of the driveway.

 _At long last, I'm here…_

He looked up at the grand facade of the palace: at its exquisitely-carved statues and stonework, at the froth of black iron curlicues that comprised the gates, at the gleam of gold and mint-aqua that adorned the dome atop the palace like a crown.

 _...at the home of the royal family of Granzreich: Weisburg Palace._

Memories and varying resolutions flickered in his head as he took the sight.

 _Starting today, this will be where I shall live and work as the kingdom's royal tutor._

He steeled his resolve; picked up his suitcase, and started for the palace gates.

 _To both groom the kingdom's princes and fulfil my own personal goals, this is my first step on that path —_

He barely reached the palace gates before a hand slammed down on his shoulder.

'Not so fast, kid!'

 _How anticlimactic…_

Two guards had accosted him, and together they gave the overall impression that a new 'Men In Black' film was being shot on the premises, but minus the sunglasses. And minus the aliens, naturally, but the bright pink hair that one of them sported would make you doubt. One, a rather tightly-wound individual with short, straw-like hair and an aggrieved expression, had a hand clamped on Heine's shoulder, and the other who looked as though he spent more time flirting and dying his jagged hair rose-gold than training to be a guard.

'"Kid?"' Heine asked, glancing around. 'Whom are you speaking of, exactly?'

' _You_ , kid!' the blond shouted. 'You can't just rock up and enter the palace as you please!'

Heine sighed and pulled out his phone, flicking through screens until he found an email he'd marked as 'unread,' and he held up the device to the two of them. 'I'm not "rocking up." I have a royal summons from His Majesty the King, if you wish to see it.'

'Huh?' the two guards said in perfect sync.

'I should have introduced myself. I am the new Royal Tutor, Heine — '

'Ah!' The young guard with the rose-gold hair clicked his fingers and said, 'You must be the professor's _kid_ , riiight?' The guard patted Heine on the head and grinned at his coworker. 'Dad's travelling companion — oh gosh, that's adorable.'

'Ah, of course,' the other said, softening up and fondling Heine on the head as well. 'Well, you can wait here with us for your daddy and he'll take you inside with him, there's a good boy.'

Heine stared at the palace gates. The guards were still patting him on the head. _Are they serious?_ It seemed that they were. Heine's lips pressed into a sulk, and he fumed in silence. It wasn't as though he could do much else. _Hmph…_

The older guard glanced up, and stepped away, scanning the drive. 'Hm? I'm not seeing any more vehicles…'

The younger guard let Heine go and walked over to look for himself. 'Come to think of it, why would they send the kid on ahead by himself in a limo?'

 _I'm glad to see that they have a few brain cells between them_ , Heine thought wearily. He flopped onto his suitcase. Not exactly comfortable, as it was a hardshell and covered in luggage straps, but he was past caring at this point.

The older guard pressed a hand to his earpiece, hooked up to a curled black cord that trailed into his collar. 'Hey, can someone get me stats on the location of the car? It seems there's been a problem…'

The ostentatious black iron gates swung open at Heine's back, and he glanced up.

An elderly woman walked forward, the perfect picture of a former queen, from the strands of pearls around her neck right down to the crisp lavender three-piece and patent pumps she wore.

She paused, elegantly, and scanned the drive, fretting despite her composed demeanour. 'Dear me, where on earth is Professor Heine?'

The guards dropped to one knee so fast that they nearly cracked their kneecaps on the asphalt, and Heine quickly moved from his suitcase into a kneeling position as well.

'Her Royal Highness the Queen Mother!' the guards blurted out

She caught sight of Heine and her expression swapped to a beaming smile as though someone had flipped a switch. 'Oh, there he is! Professor Heine!' she gushed, and she took his hands in hers, to the complete chagrin of the guards at their side.

'Shall we?' she offered, holding out a hand to the palace. 'I'll show you inside.'

He respectfully nodded, his eyes flickering as they absorbed every detail of the gates and archway. 'I would be most appreciative. Thank you.'

'She said, "P-Professor Heine"?' the blond guard stammered.

'No way, h-he can't be!' the other said, still panicking nonetheless.

Heine said nothing. Then turned back. 'Forgive the late introduction. I am Heine Wittgenstein, and from today onwards, I will be here at the palace as the royal tutor.'

And he glared at the guards, not knowing what he looked like, but if his eyes looked like they were lit with some kind toxic miasma then that was good enough for him.

'And I'll have you know that despite all appearances, I am a full-grown _adult_.'

The guard's expressions blanked, then whitened.

' _We're so sorry, Professor!'_

Heine padded down the halls, following the queen mother through the elaborate corridors adorned with chandeliers and priceless painting in gilded frames, dotted with maids that all swept into curtseys as he passed.

The first time it happened, he almost pulled up short and asked them not to: bowing was for those of royal status. But as he was now a part of the royal household and such behaviour was expected, he refrained.

 _It's like another world. Most people visit Weisburg Palace as tourists, yet here I am, to live here as part of the royal household, no less._

A maid had already taken Heine's suitcase, which allowed him to follow his host without baggage to worry about. He was also currently thanking every fragment of commonsense he had that he'd had the sense to pay for a new suit, as he didn't think the jeans he usually wore nor the last suit he owned were going to cut it here.

In some sections of the palace, digital screens embedded in the walls glowed, spilling information in several languages over their surfaces, about the palace's history. Also, cordons and silver posts sectioned off some hallways and rooms of the palace. _To define which areas tourists are allowed in, perhaps?_

The queen mother glanced over her shoulder as she walked, her heels leaving small dents in the carpet. She was also tapping out a flurry of instructions on her Blackberry, and getting a storm of pinging from the palace staff scattered through the hallways in response. She must have a significant role in managing the palace's affairs. Heine would normally think that you couldn't get anything done with such an outdated phone, but she certainly seemed to be achieving results nonetheless. 'I'm so sorry, dear,' she said. 'If I'd warned them ahead of time then you wouldn't have had such difficulties, right out of the gate, no less.'

Heine almost smiled at her inadvertent attempt at humour. Almost, but it took a lot to get him to laugh. 'It's no problem at all. I'm frequently mistaken for a child; don't give it another thought.'

The moment the queen mother turned back to the corridor, Heine looked away and let out his pent-up frustration with a filthy look at a random patch of carpet. _Easy enough to say, much harder in practice._ He sighed. _I told her to not think about it for another moment, yet I'm still thinking about it_.

…Yes, definitely still thinking about it.

Heine bottled his frustration away and pulled up his stoic facade again. He followed the queen mother up a staggered marble staircase, watching the light from the oversized chandeliers scatter over her shoulders.

'I must admit, I was stunned to receive a message from the king himself.'

'Pardon?'

'I didn't expect to be called to the royal palace for this post — as I'm not of noble status. I'm only a normal person.'

She looked over her shoulder. 'Nonsense. The king had nothing but praise for your ability as a teacher. This is would be an exception in recognition of your skill, no?'

 _A special exception…_

Shadows filled the hall, and Heine's mind. He fingered the phone in his pocket. Recalling the words of the email that the king had sent.

 _Herr Heine Wittgenstein:_

 _As the king of Granzreich, I invite you to the palace to take the position of 'royal tutor.'_

 _I have been fortunate enough to be blessed with one princess and five princes. My eldest son is an excellent candidate for the crown, yet I cannot ignore the possibility that an accident or disaster could befall him._

 _As such, I would appoint you as tutor to the four younger princes, to groom them into worthy potential heirs to the throne. As I see it, they are still unfit for kingship. To prevent the discrepancies on account of different tutors giving them differing levels of instruction — thereby causing differences in their development — I wish to have you oversee all four of them with equal attention, as their sole educator._

 _If any of them mature enough to rival their eldest brother in worthiness for the crown, then at that time —_

Heine's eyes snagged on the edges of the marble steps. The final words echoed in his head, entrusted to him and him alone.

Hands clasped his, and he stopped, startled. 'Professor!' the queen mother pleaded. 'My little princes… I beg of you, take good care of them!'

He stared at her in confusion. 'Forgive me, but… pardon?'

She let him go and turned away, one hand fussing with the pearls at her neck. 'You see… the princes' tutors are always so quick to leave. It's the strangest thing, and I simply can't understand why!'

A thought occurred to Heine, and he raised an eyebrow. 'Forgive me, but could the problem perhaps be something do with the princes?'

The queen mother staggered back, shocked. 'N-Never!' she protested. 'T-They're such little angels!' She drooped, winding one of her strands of pearls around her finger. 'If there were any problem, it must be that they're so perfect and well-behaved that their tutors had nothing to teach them… Yes, that must be it.'

Heine masked a wry grimace. _The love of a grandparent…_

Heine followed the queen mother down a corridor edged with side tables and candlesticks, with new thoughts ticking through his head. _It appears that I've had a problem pushed onto me…_

He touched a hand to his glasses and pushed them up. _Well, bring it on. My only concern is doing this job satisfactorily._

The queen mother stepped aside, and the carpet stopped at a huge pair of white-and-gold doors framed by two guards. Heine rested a hand against his waist, his fingers holding the edge of his jacket.

 _No matter how problematic these princes are, I will make them into royals that their father can be proud of; that is my duty as a teacher and an educator._

The queen mother gestured to the guards with a hand and a smile. 'The princes are waiting beyond these doors. I'll leave them in your care, Professor.'

She curtsied, and Heine quickly dipped into a bow, and watched her leave.

The guards opened the doors.

He stepped into the darkness.

And the doors slammed shut. He was left standing in a dark room, a chandelier floating above his head, with four shadows poised on the other side of the room. Standing in silence, like statues frozen in time.

Clearly, they weren't going to make the first move.

After a moment, Heine crossed the distance, shoes clicking against the marble in a soft rhythm. He kneeled before them, one hand touched to his chest and eyes lowered.

' _Freut mich_ , Your Royal Highnesses. My name is Heine Wittgenstein.'

He looked up. The light caught on his glasses and refracted rainbow shards through the grey.

'Starting today… I shall be your tutor.'

Light flashed at the edges of the curtains.

And the window at the princes' backs slammed open — light exploded in his eyes like a starburst and a gale nearly swept him off his feet, scattering feathers through the room.

 _Feathers?_ He shielded his eyes from the light with a hand, too busy covering his eyes and trying not to fall over to be properly confused. _What should I expect next — a smoke machine? What about some strobe lights and lasers while we're at it —_

Through the cracks in his fingers and the fading glare of the light, he saw what the darkness had been concealing since he'd entered the room. His eyes widened.

The prince that extended a hand to him with a perfect smile and gloved fingers was so beautiful that he looked like he'd stepped out of a book of fairytales. 'It's a pleasure to meet you… Herr Wittgenstein.' And in the light, his eyes looked so much like gemstones that they ought to be set in gold.

And the other three were just as beautiful, because that was the only way you could describe it: handsome, yes, but also beautiful, blessed with European looks, blue eyes, and flawless skin, and all of that beauty was only refined and highlighted by the well-cut matching navy-black suits they wore, no doubt hand-tailored by the finest fashion designers in Fleur, Fonseine.

He shouldn't make the comparison, but it sprang to mind, especially on seeing that one prince that had waist-length blond hair.

They looked like overly-expensive Barbie dolls.

Thankfully, Heine had the presence of mind to not choke and laugh.

But that aside, they truly were beautiful. They stood against the wall as though they were standing inside a portrait that had come to life, the wind and light playing on their features in such an exquisite manner that it almost looked as though it had been animated by cutting-edge CGI software.

 _They look like nobility and pure-heartedness personified… this is the textbook definition of a prince!_

The prince that had been the first to speak daintily walked forward and leaned down slightly, as Heine was still kneeling. The longer strands of blond hair around his face fell forward, and the prince tucked them back behind his ear with gloved fingers and a soft smile.

 _He's stunning… He looks as though he stepped out of a painting. He's a perfect prince in every way._

'We welcome you with open arms, Herr Wittgenstein — '

He stopped, and his expression altered so drastically that it felt like seeing an instant profile picture change.

And the prince gave Heine one of the filthiest glares he had ever seen. 'Yeah right — do you _actually_ think we want you here?'

Heine was so surprised that all he could do was stare.

 _That was… abrupt. And inexplicable, for that matter_.

The prince's shoulders shook slightly, with the weight of a pent-up thunderstorm. 'Before you get full of yourself, let's get this straight, _pleb_.'

He turned his back and stalked to the open window, one hand resting on his hip. 'My father's orders are irrelevant; you're a teacher, a _commoner_ , and that's all.' He sat on the sill of the open window and elegantly crossed one leg over the other, giving Heine a disdainful look. He splayed his fingers over his chest. 'I'm the fourth prince of the kingdom of Granzreich, Leonhard von Granzreich, and you will _not_ order me around. _Understood?_ '

Heine could barely do more than hold his gaze. Any solid footing he thought he had just shattered, and and he was somewhat at a loss.

 _Well… he looks stunningly beautiful, but the moment he opens his mouth, he's revealed to be stunningly proud._ Heine tried to place this atrocious display on some kind of scale. _As proud as Mount Everest is tall — the Everest-Proud Prince._

Heine heard light footsteps and suddenly a bubbly voice cried, 'Hey, Teach, heads up!' and he was swept off his feet by a pair of hands that lifted him clean off the ground, much to his shock.

And to his chagrin, the prince spun him around in circles like he was a pet cat or something of that sort, keeping up a running commentary all the while. 'Whaaa?! Are you actually a grownup?! You're _light_ , and tiny! Waaah, have you always been this little? You can't be more than five foot — _kawaii, ne_?'

His voice was equal parts charming and infuriating, and Heine was torn between smacking him or tolerating the nonsense for a bit longer. As he would probably get in trouble for smacking a prince, he opted for the latter.

'Um…' he said weakly. He was beginning to feel ill from all the spinning. If he'd known that meeting the princes was going to be this much of an ordeal, he would have taken some ibuprofen beforehand.

' _D_it_ , Licht!' Prince Leonhard yelled, 'Don't interrupt!'

'Sharing is caring, Leonie!' Prince Licht said with an exasperated expression. 'And I wanna talk to the little guy too!'

One of the many chains holding Heine's temper back snapped, and he glared up at Prince Licht. ' _Excuse me…_ '

 _He called me little — twice!_

'Oh, whoops-a-daisy, guess I didn't introduce myself, yeah?' Licht said, and tossed Heine back to the ground in the way you would a cat you had finished patting. Heine landed on his feet and turned back to him.

The prince smiled, yet it was so full of good humour and pearly teeth that you could really only call it a grin. 'I'm Licht Von Glanz — eh, my full name's way too long. "Licht" is good enough!' He winked and flicked his fingers to his eyes in a peace sign, with an exaggerated pose. 'Just call me Li-Hi, 'kay?'

 _What is he, a DJ?_ Heine barely managed a nod in response. _I must confess, between his charisma and pretty boy looks, he wouldn't be out of place in a Japanese comic book…_

It was strange. The prince seemed surprisingly friendly and easy-going, especially in contrast with his haughty brother. One wouldn't think that he was a royal —

Prince Licht noted Heine's appraisal of him with a curious look, then his expression brightened and he tapped a fist against his open palm. He grinned; ran his hand through his hair, and played with his open collar, drawing attention to the triangle of bare skin set between the fabric. The image had the overall affect of reminding Heine of every cologne advertisement he'd ever seen in his life. 'Enjoying the view, Teach? Go ahead and take a long look, it's not every day that people get to see this level of allure up close…'

Heine blanched, and his disgust splashed across his expression like wet paint.

'This level of shamelessness is what you mean!' one of the princes yelled, and whacked Prince Licht across the head with an e-reader. The smack echoed through the chamber, along with the unlucky prince's shriek.

' _YOWCH!_ B-Brunie, what's your _damage_?!' Licht protested.

The brown-haired prince placed the e-reader, clad in a green leather case, back over his shoulder and ignored Prince Licht, before approaching Heine. He inclined his head and offered Heine a formal bow of introduction, saying, 'My brothers seem to have brought their talents for immature behaviour along to this meeting, it seems.'

'Oh, not at all,' Heine muttered, and offered him a bow in return.

Prince Bruno touched a hand to his chest. The action drew attention to two golden medals, attached to his suit jacket with golden braid. 'As the third-eldest brother, Bruno, I apologise for my younger brothers' irksome behaviour.'

He cupped a hand to his cheek and adjusted his glasses with a finger. 'By the way, I took the liberty of researching your background when I heard you were to be our new tutor… but I could find no information concerning your academic record.' His brow creased. That a piece of information should be unavailable in their day and age was an anomaly, and he rightly looked confused. 'On that note, I could not find any information regarding you at _all_. Where on earth did you go to university?'

Heine didn't respond to the observation of his lack of history. Those were too dangerous waters to get into right then. 'I didn't.'

'…Pardon?'

'I did not attend university.'

Bruno blinked, then said, '…I know that online studies and studying by correspondence is becoming more and more widely used, but you would still have an alma mater even in that circumstance, would you not?'

'My apologies, but I'm afraid that I have not studied under a university of any sort.'

The prince's eyes turned to ice behind his glasses. The expression he maintained was cooly civil at best. '…I see.'

Heine watched the prince turn his back, in confusion. _He's nothing if not polite, yet he was anything but pleased to hear of my academic record. Perhaps he is a scholar? I must have been a disappointment to him, in that case…_

Bruno drew to a halt at the side of the last remaining prince, and held out a hand to introduce him. 'This is Kai, the second-eldest prince.'

Kai stood in silence, his face hidden by a ragged crop of white, textured hair.

Bruno glanced at his elder brother, yet did not seem surprised. 'A greeting, at least, Brother.'

'Ni… t… y…' His dialogue broke off and he looked at Heine, a fierce glare that gleamed beneath the ragged bangs that covered one side of his face. Then he turned away and walked off. Heine noticed that he was wearing an overcoat half-on over his suit.

 _I'm sure he was speaking English, but I had no clue what he was saying… And then he glared at me?_

Heine finally allowed himself a moment to regain his composure. He watched the princes from a distance: Leonhard protesting, Licht laughing at what he was saying, with Bruno watching them in turn and Kai standing to the side in silence.

 _It was a little chaotic, but at least I've met all of them, at any rate._

Heine slipped his phone from his pocket, and opened Evernote, swiping to the folder labelled 'Princes.' Then he raised a finger and got the princes' attention. 'Right. Let's get started. So that I can plan what directions your individual lessons will take, I would like to interview each of you separately.'

Leonhard walked over. 'I'm afraid not. As in — no.' His seemingly calm demeanour held for a second, then exploded into vehemence. 'None of us want a tutor and I hate tutors more than anything in the world! And if you think you're welcome here, you've got another d_ think coming! _I'll never acknowledge you as our tutor!_ '

The force of his yell nearly rocked Heine right off my feet, and he nearly stepped back, taken aback by the prince's vehemence.

Bruno adjusted his glasses, his eyes closed behind the lenses. 'I agree. I have always excelled in my studies, and I have yet to find a tutor who is actually capable of teaching me and has more academic prowess than I. I do not require a teacher who has never been to university, especially given how easily accessible that pathway is in this day and age.'

Heine suspected that only the bounds of good manners were keeping the prince from asking him if he had heard of 'TAFE' before.

Licht glanced from Bruno to Leonhard. 'You guys think so? Well, if they're not feeling it, then neither am I. I don't really care either way.' He gave Heine a bored, slightly apologetic smile, and made the motion of tipping out a glass with his hand. _This is my cup of care — oh look, it's empty._

Heine stared at the prince's hand, then into empty space when the prince moved it. _I'm being blown off with cat memes now? This is a new low…_

And Prince Kai said absolutely nothing at all.

Heine pressed his lips together. They were being so blunt that he felt as though they should just march him to the door and throw him out with a literal boot to the backside while they were at it.

And all he could do was look, look up, at the four princes that towered over him with every intention of standing their ground and driving him out of the palace.

 _It finally makes sense… Why all the former royal tutors all ran for the hills after mere hours with these boys._

 _The princes banded together and shut down every tutor that was sent their way, hating them merely for being teachers. They wouldn't have a word of it._

Frustration bubbled in Heine's chest and he clenched his fist so tight that his nails cut and pierced his palm. His voice came out dangerously low. 'Your Highnesses have been perfectly clear. Crystal clear — '

He took a breath and held up his phone, the princes' folders labeled in pastel colours: blue, yellow, green, and purple. 'Now then? Who wants to bite the bullet and take the first interview?'

All four of them stared at Heine.

'W… Wh… Whaaa?!' Leonhard shrieked. 'Did you hear a word I just _said_?!'

'Yes, it was something to the tune of, "Go jump in an empty swimming pool and hit your head on the way down, you stupid insect!"' Heine tilted his head. 'Is that correct?'

Leonhard blanched. 'We didn't say it exactly like that…'

Heine reached into his pocket, and pulled out a slim black device about the length of his hand, and touched the tip of it to his other hand. 'I am only here to teach you, as your royal tutor. How Your Highnesses _feel_ about me has nothing to do with the fact that this is how the matter stands.'

Heine pointed and the noise split the air in two — as he pointed his telescopic teacher's pointer in their faces, startling all of them.

'It is a teacher's job to teach their students.' Heine stared into Leonhard's shocked eyes at the other end of the pointer, and his grip tightened on the pointer's hand. 'Not…' he said, touching a finger to his spectacles, 'to humour them and their whims and fancies.'

Leonhard's expression turned to one of complete infuriation — _anything but a little angel I see_ — and he practically spat at Heine, eyes zapping.

Heine didn't smile. But he did give the enraged prince a look of equal challenge in return.

 _Let's see how you handle someone who can drag you off your mountain of pride, Prince._

Heine adjusted his glasses.

 _Let the games begin._

* * *

 **A/N:** Reviews welcome, and thanks for reading!


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